


Temper

by the_genderman



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Bottom Armitage Hux, Dom/sub Play, Dominant Armitage Hux, Knives, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Submissive Kylo Ren, Top Kylo Ren, Wall Sex, not that he'll admit that, very mild injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26369005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/pseuds/the_genderman
Summary: Temper -n.habit of mind, especially with respect to irritability or patience, outbursts of anger, or the like.v.to impart strength or toughness to steel or cast iron.Or, a peek into a little Kylux D/s.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Temper

It’s always a little tense at the start. Submission never comes easily to Ren, so getting to a point where they can continue is never a given—no matter how obvious it is that he needs it. But Hux is patient. He can wait. It’s worth waiting for, seeing the subtle change in body language, the look in Ren’s eyes. Knowing that he wants it, too. It gives Hux a thrill to have Ren—bigger and stronger than him—obeying him like a trained hound. Well, mostly trained.

Hux sits on the edge of his bed, nude but for his gloved hands folded patiently in his lap. That’s one of their rules for this kind of play session; Hux leaves his gloves on as a visual reminder of what Ren has agreed to do. He stands silently in front of him, glaring at the gloves, still fully clothed, only his mask yet removed. That’s another rule: Hux has to be able to see his face as he disrobes. He likes to watch Ren’s discomfort twist and change into acceptance, obedience, and enjoyment.

“Any time you’d like to begin,” Hux says, his voice almost bored. He spreads the fingers of one hand and picks an infinitesimal piece of thread off of his glove. He flicks it aside and looks up at Ren expectantly.

Kylo’s eyes close and his nostrils flare as he fights to keep control of his temper. His jaw clenches and unclenches. A minute hesitation and his hands rise to his collarbones to release the clasps of his cape. He flings it dramatically aside. Hux watches it billow and swirl to the floor.

“A good start,” Hux says with a curt nod. “Now continue; I know you’re quite capable.”

A glare, a flash of resistance, and then Kylo bends to remove his boots. Loosening them just enough, he kicks them roughly off, letting them fly and land wherever they may. One hits the wall with a thud. Hux cringes slightly. Kylo knows the disorder annoys Hux—which is precisely why he does it. After the boots, he straightens up and fingers his belt for a moment too long before unclasping it. It joins his cape on the floor, followed by his cowl, tunic, and shirt.

“So many layers, Ren. Is this standard?” Hux comments drily. “No wonder you’re always so irritable. I can’t imagine those are very breathable, and sweating is both undignified _and_ uncomfortable.”

Kylo merely shrugs and pushes down his leggings. They join not the main clothing pile, but one of the boots, well off on the other side of the room. He briefly considers flinging one of his socks at Hux just to get his expression to change, but he’s invested by now. He also knows if he pisses Hux off too badly, he’s going to give him the silent treatment for the next week and he’ll have to fend for himself. There’s a fine line between allowing Hux to remain utterly unruffled and in complete control of his emotions and blue balls. That line is _just angry enough to have some real fire to his words when he orders him around_ and Kylo walks that line like he owns it.

“Hm, _very_ nice,” Hux says with a hint of a smirk and true appreciation in his voice as the last layer of Ren’s clothing comes off, leaving him in only his underthings. Certainly not regulation and far more form-fitting than they have any right to be. “You planned ahead, I see. Are you going to take those off now?”

“What if I say no?” Kylo says, speaking for the first time since the session began. His words are contrary, but his tone is light. Teasing rather than testing.

“Are you refusing?” Hux asks, matching Ren’s tone. He rises to his feet and tilts his head quizzically. He walks the few steps over to him and raises his hand to take Ren’s chin gently between his thumb and forefinger.

Kylo raises one eyebrow, daring Hux to raise his voice, to break his shell of ice. “What if I am?”

Hux pauses. Ren hasn’t safeworded, so he’s probably just being difficult to get a rise out of him. He drops his hand from Ren’s chin to hook one finger under the neckline of his undershirt, giving it a little tug. His eyes drop to Ren’s nipples, shamelessly visible under the stretch of the thin fabric. “Well, then. I suppose I’d have to cut your clothes off of you. Would you like that? The point of a knife against your skin?”

“Why don’t you find out?” Kylo says with a smirk.

Hux lets the undershirt snap back as he crosses to his bedside table and makes a show of poking through the drawer, taking his time choosing. Kylo knows it’s a show—everything in there is as perfectionistly organized as every other part of Hux’s life—but it’s working. He wants him to hurry up and choose and get back over here.

At last, he does. Kylo is nearly vibrating out of his skin from waiting, wanting to disobey, wanting to stride over there, pick a knife himself at random, and shove it into Hux’s hand. _Take this and just_ do _it already_. Hux straightens up and returns, a wicked-looking stiletto blade in hand. He rotates the knife slowly, letting the light catch it, letting Kylo see that it’s been sharpened all the way around the blade for cutting as well as piercing.

Forcing himself to stand still, Kylo straightens up to his full height as Hux’s fingers find the bottom of his undershirt. The steel blade slides through the fabric like it was nothing, the tip of the knife whispering against his skin. Exquisite precision. Close enough to let him know it was there, to let him know how dangerous Hux could be, but without actually cutting him. He can feel himself starting to get hard and Hux has barely even touched him. The knife reaches the neckline of the shirt and the fabric curls back to reveal the broad expanse of his chest. Hux’s eyes sweep over him for a breath too long and then he circles silently around him. Kylo feels the blade of the knife gently touch each shoulder, slicing away the straps of the undershirt. It flutters to the ground. He holds his position.

Hux remains behind him. Kylo can feel him, but he can’t see him. Won’t turn to look. He’s not supposed to, no matter how much he might want. A warm leather-clad hand on the small of his back, the thin line of cold steel pressed against his hip. He wonders where Hux will choose to cut. He lets his eyes slip just out of focus, probing lightly into Hux’s mind. 

A sting of pain as the tip of the knife bites into the fleshy part of his thigh, drawing a tiny bead of blood.

“You know better than that, Ren,” Hux tsks. “Let me work, I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, then hurry it up a little,” Kylo huffs, impatience getting the better of him.

“No,” Hux says simply, tracing the point of the knife slowly up Kylo’s spine and back down again.

Anger flares in Kylo. He clenches his jaw, fingers curling almost into fists. He knows Hux is right, but he’s not about to admit it. Instant gratification or the slow tease that builds and builds until Hux gives him permission and he erupts, pushing him down into the bed, up against the wall, wherever he’s chosen. All of his pent-up rage fueling him. He relaxes his fingers, letting his anger settle again back to a simmer. Hux has circled back around in front of him and he sees the possessive little smirk bloom on his lips again. Hux might not be Force-sensitive, but he certainly does seem to have figured out how to pick up on the grossest manifestations of it. A testament to the strength of their relationship, tumultuous though it might be.

Closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing, Kylo feels Hux’s hand on the point of his hipbone and then the tip of the knife again between Hux’s fingers. Hux strokes his hand down, feeling the contours of his body, the knife following softly along. The fabric of his underwear parts under the sharp blade. First one side, then the other, and he’s completely naked. He feels unusually exposed. His eyes blink open and his erection flags.

Hux gives him a questioning look, one eyebrow quirking up.

Kylo scowls, refusing to say the word, refusing to call an end just yet. “I don’t like feeling vulnerable,” he admits after a moment too long of silence from Hux.

Wordlessly, Hux turns and goes to put the knife away, taking his eyes off Kylo and letting him feel unobserved for a moment. When he returns, he drapes himself over Kylo’s back. He tenderly sweeps Kylo’s hair out of the way and presses his lips to the side of his neck. One gloved hand creeps around his waist, slides up his stomach, and comes to rest in the valley of his chest. The other wraps fingers around his cock and begins to stroke, slow and smooth.

“It’s not so bad, you know,” Hux murmurs between kisses. “Being vulnerable. But only in the right hands, of course,” he clarifies quickly. “How do you think I feel every time with you? It’s part of the excitement. Knowing that if you chose, you could—with a mere flick of your fingers—steal control of my body, do with me whatever you wanted. Every time I open myself to you, I know it’s a possibility. But I do it anyway.”

“Why?” Kylo asks, his voice gone as soft as Hux’s.

“Because you’re a fantastic lay, what did you think?” Hux laughs, loud and abrupt, and detaches himself just as abruptly from Kylo. “But enough chatter. How about you get over here, lick my arse until I tell you to stop, then lube me up and fuck me against the wall like you mean it?”

Hux climbs onto the bed, makes a wide inverted V of his legs, and presents himself—there’s no other word for it. He crosses his arms, resting his forehead on them, eyeing Ren upside down from between his legs. Ren follows him up and places his hands on Hux’s buttocks. He digs his fingers into the soft flesh, giving them a good hard squeeze before sliding his thumbs between them, spreading them apart.

Kylo knows exactly where to go. He knows exactly the spot that makes Hux weak in the knees and pant and moan, exactly the spot that makes him break his perfect façade and squirm with both pleasure and discomfort. It doesn’t seem like that particular spot should be anything special—it’s not his hole, it’s not even his perineum, but a seemingly innocuous part of his buttocks—but as long as it works, he’ll work on it. He gets his tongue nice and wet, practically drooling on Hux as he moves in. 

Shivering at the first touch of Ren’s tongue, Hux closes his eyes and digs his fingers into his sheets. He bites down on a moan, not wanting to let Ren know what he’s found the sweet spot already; clearly he’s been paying attention. He wants to make him work for it, keep him going as long as he can stand it, until Ren’s gotten him so worked up that he’s practically begging him to put it in him and let him come already. Except that he wouldn’t go so far as to actually _beg_ , merely a figure of speech. And that he’s not actually sure, maybe he _could_ come just from this, Ren’s never stayed down long enough for him to find out. He squirms and muses briefly on the downsides of impatience—both Ren’s and his—before Ren manages to wring a particularly gaudy moan out of him that has him writhing and trying to burrow his way into the mattress. He’s sure he’s going to have to change the sheets after this; he’s got to be leaking like a faucet by now, not to mention Ren slobbering all over his arse.

“Ok, ok, enough,” Hux groans, trying to wriggle out of Kylo’s grip. “You know where the lube is. Go get it and prep me.”

Ren does as he’s told. Hux catches his breath, taking the moment to re-center himself and come back down before Ren gets back and starts working up him again. He lets out a throaty groan as Ren’s fingers slip into him and begin probing around—he didn’t even notice him climbing back onto the bed, too distracted. He can imagine the smug little smile on Ren’s face, managing to catch him unawares. Letting the little moment of annoyance pass him by, he closes his eyes and allows himself to relax, allows himself to open for him, in more ways than simply physically.

When Ren’s fingers pull out, Hux grunts softly and climbs off the bed, moving ungracefully over to the wall. He leans back, preparing himself. He beckons to Ren, who practically pounces off the bed to meet him. Hux tips his head back invitingly and Ren obeys the wordless summons, sucking hungry kisses down his throat. Hux wraps his arms around Ren’s shoulders, pulling the two of them even closer. Ren’s hands slide down his sides, over his hips, and dig into his buttocks. He lifts him with what feels like almost effortless ease and grace, bracing him against the wall and penetrating him. Hux sinks down onto Ren’s cock with an unrepentant moan, daring him to make him do it again, and wraps his legs around Ren’s waist. 

And Kylo does. He jerks his hips, finding a rough, eager rhythm. He can feel Hux shaking as he thrusts into him, letting gravity assist as he drives deep, dragging groans and moans and gasps from the both of them. Hux clings to him, façade cracked wide open as he pants and moans. He’s getting close—doesn’t even complain when Kylo probes a soft tendril of the Force into his mind to check how near he is—but he’s not quite as close as Kylo is. Kylo gives a little snort of a laugh. Even in the throes of pleasure, Hux couldn’t give up _every_ vestige of control. Kylo closes his eyes and diverts a little of his focus to hold back his orgasm until after he makes Hux come. It gives him a perverse bit of pleasure knowing he can exert a kind of control over their sex life that Hux could never dream of having.

Hux writhes and keens as the orgasm rocks him, come splattering all the way up to his chest. His fingers dig into Kylo’s back. Kylo knows by touch how much longer he can hold out until the overstimulation turns into pain; he releases his hold on himself just a hair after that point, holding Hux tight as his hips buck and he spills into him.

Kylo pulls out and puts Hux down slowly, letting the mix of come and lube drip down his thighs as he finds his feet and the strength to stand again. He smirks as he catches Hux’s unmistakable shudder of revulsion at the mess he’s made of him as the heat of the moment passes. Hux moves to wipe the come off of his chest but catches himself, remembering he’s still got his gloves on.

“That was… quite acceptable,” Hux says, though the fact that he’s still a little out of breath belies his words. 

“Oh, _high_ praise,” Kylo teases, leaning casually against the wall on one elbow, grinning at Hux.

Hux ignores him and peels his gloves off, folding them and setting them neatly on his bedside table. “I’m going to go wash up. This session is over. You can stay if you want, leave if you want, do whatever.”

“Oh, I think I’ll stay,” Kylo says, sprawling out over Hux’s bed. “Use your shower, maybe rearrange all the bottles just to annoy you.”

Hux scowls.


End file.
